Latent Breakdown
by AnimeGirl 144
Summary: America was scarred after the HetaOni events. How does that affect him in normal life when no one else on the Allies side knows what he is talking about?
1. Chapter One

**Well I'm back with a new story. I'm terribly sorry if it seems rush; I've been out of funk lately. Hopefully, you'll all still enjoy it!**

**As always, do you honestly think I own these characters?**

* * *

While England and France argued like they normally did during meetings, America sat quietly in his seat, resting his chin on his folded arms with closed eyes. He figured no one was watching, but China, a person who always stood back, assessed their North American friend. It was abnormal to not see America making some sort of noise or idiotic statements; in fact, it made China uncomfortable.

"America, are you feeling well? Do you need some of my delicious cooking?" China questioned.

It was rare for him to be rare to America, but there were times when he felt compassionate to the young nation. It probably had something to do with the fact that America was _centuries_ younger than him, making him a baby in China's eyes.

America opened his eyes and looked at the Asian nation of the Allies. His eyes seemed far away, like he wasn't there at all. Under his eyes were bags that attested to how sleep deprived the American was; how tired was hard for China to tell. After seeming to figure out what the older nation had said to him, he gave a short shake of the head.

"Nah," he said in a small voice, the complete opposite of his loud, obnoxious one. He stood up. "I think I'm going to go. See ya guys."

America left the meeting room without another word and without anyone stopping him. China stared at the door in worry before looking around the room. Russia seemed to be focused on the door as well, but his face still held the innocent look that disturbed China. Deciding he was no help, he looked to the Western nations. France and England had stopped their fighting and were looking at the door that America had exited from. England looked the most worried, something that didn't surprise China as of late.

America had suffered a personality change out of the blue one day, causing everyone to be thrown off tilt. He had said something about a mansion, but when his allies responded back with blank stares, he dropped the subject. Since then, he had begun to self-destruct on himself. He rarely ate, didn't laugh, and wouldn't propose stupid ideas to win the war. He wasn't himself anymore, and it had caused England to grow worried. The bushy-browed nation hadn't been as hard on America as he used to be. He used less insults when regarding to the boy and had less of a haughty attitude to him. It was clear that the island nation was doing his best to get the boy back to normal, but nothing worked. None dared to approach the American because they didn't know how to bring the topic up.

They weren't even sure they'd get a real answer.

* * *

America laid on his hotel bed once he made it back, releasing a sigh as he forced his eyes closed. He knew he shouldn't have left the meeting like he had, but he didn't want to stay in the meeting any more. He couldn't take sitting there with the others around him.

None of them remembered the mansion, and while he was grateful for that, he was also troubled by him. He couldn't have dreamt it up, but his scar on the shoulder from that creature had been the only proof to remind him that it had been real. He had contemplated showing the others to get a reaction from them, but he decided against it. He didn't want to let his friends relive the hell they had suffered; it didn't mean that it was easy for him to hold such memories in his head. Besides, he had no one to talk to.

Russia was out of the question. The large man had begun keeping to himself more than usual, but America never really cared for him. China was also out of the question. American and him just didn't get along enough for America to trust the other man with the details. France...he was terrified France would turn his sufferings into some sort of flirtation, so he was ruled out. And England... he and England still weren't on good footing, so he didn't dare think about asking his old caretaker for help (besides, the limey would probably just laugh at him for crawling back).

Curling in a ball, terribly alone, forcing his eyes open as an image appeared. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw his friends, bloodied and dead because he was too useless to do a thing. He was no hero; he was foolish to even think he had been. The memories had sickened him, leaving his stomach queasy to any sort of food. Since he had nightmares, he never slept for long. If he did manage to get some sleep in, he'd always wake back up screaming, terrified of the visions he'd see in his mind. He knew it was hindering his performance, and perhaps causing his allies to feel uncomfortable around him, but he was too tired to care.

He began to cry as his body shuddered. Even though he had exited the mansion three months ago, the cries of the monster and his dying friends stuck within him, making him relive it on a daily basis. With no one around to see his moment of weakness, he released his tears, wanting to unleash some sort of emotion or else he'd go insane. He fell asleep that way, curled up at the end of his bed, clinging to the bed sheets with tears running down his cheeks. It wasn't a peaceful sleep, but it was sleep none of the less; something that America desperately needed, along with a loving hand to tell him that he was okay.


	2. Chapter Two

**I was going to hold off, but I decided I'd be nice and let you all see this! Wow...****MoonstoneMagic13 & Lady Cooper...can you read my mind? Italy was always planned to remember. *Hands over cookies.***

**I should explain how this story came about. Aside from it being a post-HetaOni, I thought about America's suffering. No doubt everyone suffered psychologically (many would argue Italy suffered the most), but I thought about America. He went in there, thinking he could save everyone... but death after death had to affect him. So this is how the story came to be.**

* * *

Italy listened to Germany rant about the upcoming strategy he had come up with. Out of loyalty, Italy nodded and followed through, allowing Germany to inform him on the plan the Italian nation would most definitely _not _carry out. Germany seemed to have figured this out already, but he kept ordering Italy anyways, simply because he needed to relay this info to someone. The only one listening was Japan, who stood beside the Italian. Japan was always better then Italy with following orders.

There had been a subtle change in Italy that made the others look at him weirdly. One instance was that he was able to tie his own shoes. That had thrown Germany for a loop, considering the other nation was always requesting him to do it for him. Another was that Italy no longer slept in Germany's bed, which relieved the blond nation greatly.

Neither of his allies knew that the change had been because of the events of the mansion. None of them had known about the events, causing Italy to shut up about it. He was grateful none of them remembered it because he couldn't stand the thought of them remembering all the deaths and blood; it was too much for even Italy to bear. He had changed how he interacted with the others, mainly being more caring to his other Axis allies. He told his brother that he loved him more (which, understandingly, freaked Romano out). For a while, his friends had thought he was someone else, but a pasta-test made it clear that he was truly Italy, though they still didn't understand the change in him.

"We're off now," Germany said as he brought his explanation to a close.

"Right," Italy said at the same time he heard Japan say, "Hai."

* * *

Italy looked across from him at the Allies who had assembled before him. Prussia, Romano and Spain were in their own countries, leaving the trio to face off against the five Allies (hadn't there been a sixth?...maybe he was imagining things). He didn't look forward to facing them in battle, remembering their mangled bodies. From the looks of their assembled group, all of them seemed normal, much like his allies... except America.

The normally loud nation was no longer the boy he had remembered from before the mansion and even from what he began to know during those events. He stood with his shoulders slumped, not bothering to look at anyone. He wore bags under his eyes, and he looked thinner than Italy remembered.

Could the youngest member remember the events with the creature?

"We are not surrendering to the likes of you, Axis Powers," England said, drawing Italy out of his thoughts. When had they been talking?

Germany held his luger at England, who was acting as the leader for the group since America wasn't taking the position; he was the most qualified since he'd been fighting Germany every step of the way since day one.

"You cannot win this time," Germany said with confidence.

"Everyone...just stop," America said in a rather weak voice, causing everyone to look at him like he had a second head.

America didn't blush or falter under their gazes; he looked at them with a very tired expression. Italy's heart beat in compassion for the poor boy; he looked like death walking in a bomber jacket.

"I'm tired of all this stupid fighting. It's getting us nowhere," America responded.

"Are you serious America?" China questioned, holding his wok in an obvious preparation for battle.

"I am. I'm just tired...tired of all this," America sighed as he walked away.

The other nations watched the youngest member walk away, but only Italy could related. Knowing how scared he was to fight his "enemies," he could relate to America. His actions only confirmed that America was like him; he remembered the events from the mansion (although it seemed he was suffering more from those memories than himself). England didn't hesitate in following after America, the concern on his face there without a care for who would see it. France followed shortly after because he didn't dare want to fight without England and America backing him up. China decided to follow his allies. Russia glanced at the Axis, and Italy tensed in fear while Germany and Japan got ready to fight. Russia could have easily taken them on, but he decided to spare the three and followed more slowly after his allies, possibly deciding that America's personality change was much better than seeing his enemies suffer (this didn't mean he wouldn't make them suffer).

Italy released a sigh of relief, but wondered on how he'd find the American so they could talk.

* * *

"Hold on America," England said as he ran to catch up to his former charge.

America stopped and turned to look at England, not looking into his eyes though. Remembering how many months ago England couldn't see was enough to scar America forever. England stopped several feet from America, wondering how to approach the man. He didn't want to spook the American enough that he'd run away.

"What's been happening to you lately?" England questioned.

"What do you mean?" America asked bluntly.

"Don't play dumb," England responded. "You haven't been acting yourself lately. You don't mention being a hero at any time of the day, you're hardly eating, you look like you haven't been sleeping for months-"

"I'm fine England," America whispered weakly.

"_Fine?_" England demanded. "You are most certainly _not_ fine."

"I am...I promise..." America responded.

"America, you can tell me anything," England said, speaking with honest sincerity. It was very rare that he would open himself up like he was at that moment, but he needed to show America that he would be there for him. "I won't hurt you; whatever it is, I'll help you through it."

America raised his head to finally look at England, but when his blue eyes met England's green, he got a flash of pale green eyes staring back at him. Clenching his eyes shut, he shook the image away.

"I...I can't... none of you would understand," America responded.

"Try me," England said with a weak smile. "What happened to make you this way that I haven't already been through?"

America shook his head more adamantly and walked away.

"I just...I'm fine England. Don't worry about me." And with that, the American retreated, leaving England to himself.

The island nation's shoulders slumped, but he didn't dare chase the American. He was hurt at being rebuffed and wasn't sure how to proceed. It was obvious the American was pushing him away (which wasn't a surprise due to their history), but even this seemed out of norm for the other nation.

_America...what's wrong? Please...I don't want to see you hurt,_ the older man thought as tears formed at the corner of his eyes.


	3. Chapter Three

**I've gotten, surprisingly, more reviews than I assumed I would get, so I want to thank you all! Hopefully, you'll enjoy this. The next two chapters should be longer and filled with more angst.**

* * *

Italy had broken into the Allies' meeting building once before, so he was very confident in his skills when he snuck in for a second time. He hadn't told Germany or Japan where he was going, so he wasn't sure if he had enough time to confront America before the two came looking for him. He passed into the room that he knew held the regular meetings for the Allies. Peeking in, he found everyone but America inside. He bit his lip in fear; he had been banking on America being in the meeting hall. Closing the door, he began his search for the American nation.

* * *

"I'm worried chaps," England said to his Allied companions, not even realizing that Italy had been at the door directly to his left. "America hasn't been acting himself."

"Da," Russia said with a nod. "America has been under weather."

"He rejected _food,_ and it wasn't even England's food," China contributed.

England narrowed his eyes at China but didn't defend his cooking; he was too worried about America to fight the other man.

"Mes amis," France broke in. "Do you think that, perhaps, our dear little Amerique has finally... lost it?"

England turned his glare on France.

"Do not say such a stupid thing," England sneered. "I'm sure... I'm sure it's something else."

"Like what?" France shot back, though not just to spite the other nation.

"I don't know! But I will find out," England said with a determined look in his eyes.

* * *

As Italy stepped through the back doors of the building, he was sure that America had long since retreated to the safety of his hotel room... until he saw a familiar little cow-lick sticking out from behind the nearby tree. Walking towards it carefully and as quietly as he could, he looked around the tree and found the American nation sitting with his eyes closed. America was in a deep thought because he didn't even sense the Italian nation next to him - not until he felt a tap on his shoulders. Expecting one of the Allies, he jumped in shock when he saw it was Italy.

The older nation held his hands up in defense. America calmed down; trying to not show weakness to... well... he couldn't really call Italy an enemy anymore.

"I mean you no harm. I'm only here to talk to you," Italy said quickly.

"About what?" America asked.

"...You remember... remember the mansion, yeah?" Italy asked, not knowing how to beat around the bush.

America's eyes widened as he looked up at him. Italy smiled softly in response to the other nation's surprise.

"I remember all of it too," Italy continued. "The fights... the losses..."

"Really?" America asked.

"Mhm. I had thought I was the only one," Italy answered, allowing himself to sit next to America.

The blond nation didn't seem to be discomforted by it. Being so close now allowed him to see the effects on the boy he had only seen two days ago. America looked closer to death to the point that it terrified Italy. America looked hopefully at Italy.

"So... so only us?"

"Yes."

"Why?" America asked.

"I...er...I can't answer that," Italy responded with a nervous smile. "I don't know either."

"None of them know," America whispered, nodding his head back at the building. "None of them... and when I tried to explain it... they... they thought I had lost my mind."

"It's okay America," Italy whispered, seeing the beginnings of America's tears.

"They think I've lost my mind, I know they do," America said as his tears began to fall. "None of them understand...none of them _want_ to understand..." The tears began to fall in earnest. "They don't know how much it _hurts_. How hard it is to look at them everyday and see... and see..." He broke off into a hiccup.

"America-" Italy began, to comfort the man, but he stopped when he felt the press of cool steel against his temple.

"_What_ are you doing here?" England's cold voice demanded.

"England-"

"Answer the question," England demanded, ignoring America's plead.

Italy was too frozen for words. England's eyes narrowed as he cocked the gun.

"I will give you to three to tell me why you're here," England instructed. "One... _two_... th-"

"Knock it off England!" America shouted, causing England to jump in shock. "He wasn't doing anything wrong."

England looked at America in shock before looking at the gun. He turned the gun and shot at the ground, away from the two kneeled nations, shocking the two. England still kept his eyes narrowed on Italy.

"Leave here, now," England ordered.

"Yes sir!" Italy screamed as he practically ran away.

America watched his retreat before glaring at England, who was slightly shocked to see the emotion. America didn't say a word to England and simply got up, intending to walk back through the meeting hall.

"America," England began, using a softer tone of voice, but it was ignored.

America didn't stop, leaving the island nation alone. Sighing England looked at the gun in his hand before stashing it against his belt. He didn't want to admit that seeing Italy (the enemy, no matter how pathetic he was an enemy) next to a crying America had caused England to freak out. Seeing America cry always made him freak out; it was probably the paternal instinct to protect his little brother that gave made him act without thinking.

_America... what's going on that you'll go talk to Italy?_ England thought in worry. _What are you willing to tell him... but not me?_


	4. Chapter Four

**Wow. I'm surprised this got so popular. Thanks everyone!**

* * *

The Allies, after learning about Italy, watched over their American friend with a more critical eye. They did their best to get him to open up, but the American rebuffed them coldly. He was still bitter against England for taking away his only source of sanity. He had been thinking of ways to write to Italy, but decided it was too dangerous. England was watching his every move, and he had no doubt that the other nation would quickly out him if he dared to speak with Italy. There was also the probability that Germany was monitoring any communication that probably entered Italy or not, so from both sides, America was screwed.

"Amerique!" France crooned at the retreating nation.

Sighing, the young man turned to regard the Frenchman. He regarded the only other male figure had been in his life since he was first found. It was this reason alone that he didn't just walk away.

"What is it France?" America asked as he tried to hold back his annoyance.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go to the bar with me. Just us two," France said.

America sighed and shook his head.

"I just want to head back to my hotel room," America responded instead.

"Allez, mon petit, it's just one drink," France pressured.

America turned away from the older man and began walking away.

"I said no," America grounded out angrily. "I just want to be alone for a while."

"Amerique," France said, this time firmer. "We're all worried about you. You haven't been acting yourself. We're just trying to get you to open up to us. We just want to help."

America turned and glared at France, making the man freeze in fear. Only England had ever been on the receiving end of those glares, and that man already had a well-coated protection over his body. France had no such covering, and the American, while skinny, _was still _strong than him.

"None of you wanted to help me three months ago, why start now?" America questioned bitterly.

"Amerique-"

"Just leave me alone," America muttered, turning and walking away. He didn't let the other man see the tears beginning to form in his eyes.

France stood still, surprised by America's outburst.

_What is wrong with him?_

* * *

Italy wished he could remember how all eight of them had gotten to the point they were currently situated in, but his mind was working too fast for it to even properly go back into the memory banks and bring up the events. As it was, Germany was standing with his Lugar aimed straight at America, who looked unafraid, perhaps one of the real emotions he'd shown aside from being tired. Off to the side were the Allies, who were all just as surprised by the turn of events. Japan was next to them, obviously keeping them in place. Italy was behind Germany like he always was.

"Surrender or else I'll shoot you," Germany ordered in his thick accent.

America's brows furrowed. He continued to look unafraid, and this only prompted Italy to wonder if the boy no longer feared death. Did... did he welcome it? The silence irritated Germany to the point that he readied his weapon.

"I said surrender," Germany ordered.

Embodying the image of an arrogant American that all the nations viewed him as, America stood definitely against Germany, remaining quiet and not backing down. England was shouting for America to do something, anything, and Italy was almost ready to do the same thing when Germany suddenly fired. Italy heard a distinct cry of terror coming from his right, but he was too focused on the American who was surely going to be hit by the...

Before everyone's eyes, a cubicle of light surrounded America, stopping the bullet from getting anywhere near the American. Seeing this caused everyone's eyes to widen,... but only America's seemed to have widen in horror. The minute the cubical had risen, America fell to his knees and released a long scream of anguish. Everyone only continued to be in surprise by this sudden turn of events; everyone but England. The minute he saw the boy hit the ground, the gentleman ran towards him. The magic shield, sensing its creator, disappeared, allowing England to kneel to the ground and grip the American's shoulders, who was crying at this point.

He wasn't exactly sure on what propelled him to comfort his ex-colony, but seeing the boy in _fear _had spurred him to action.

"Calm down America," England began, using one hand to cup the American's cheek. "Calm down. It's okay. The bullet didn't get to you. It's okay."

America released another anguish sob and shook his head. Out of instinct (and possibly out of fear), the American launched himself and wrapped his arms around the Englishman's body, crying into his chest. England looked at him in confusion, but continued to try and shush the poor boy, rubbing his hand up and down the American's back as the nation cried his eyes out. Italy, having a guess as to _why_ the American was crying his heart out, stepped forward, ignoring Germany's surprised protest. Getting over his own fears, he stepped up beside the Englishman.

"E...England?" Italy asked.

England looked at the Italian, more worried about America than he was with a member of the Axis so close.

"What is it Italy?" England asked.

"I... I have an idea on why America is acting like this," Italy responded.

"You do?" England asked, trying to turn his body to face Italy more.

Everytime he tried to move, America would clutch tighter to him, like he was afraid to let go. This confused England; this wasn't the America who fought him tooth-and-tail to be free from him. What had spurned this sudden closeness?

Italy nodded, looking sympathetically at the young man. "But...can we talk about it somewhere else? I think America needs to rest."

England looked and saw that America was slowly losing consciousness. He ran his fingers through the boy's hair, wanting to wait until America was near-passing out before doing anything; the boy was still gripping England rather tight fully (painfully).

"I never thought he'd be that afraid of a bullet," England murmured as he carded his fingers through America's hair.

"It wasn't the bullet," Italy responded quickly.

England looked up at him in confusion.

"Then... then what was it?" England asked.

"Like I said, I will tell you when we're somewhere for him to rest," Italy answered, though he wasn't exactly sure where would be the best place for them to speak.


	5. Chapter Five

**First off, this chapter contains spoilers for HetaOni. You've been warned.**

**Thank you everyone for your reviews, favorites, and follows. I got more than I expected (and no, I'm not trying to fish for compliments; I'm honestly surprised).**

**So I haven't watched HetaOni in a while, so my information may be wrong. If you have and you know it better than me, please PM about my mistake so I can fix it! Also, to understand what I meant by the cubical-force-field-protection thing, check out HetaOni 14 Part 2/2. It shows England bestowing the protection upon America (and Italy and Germany). HetaOni 16 Part 1/2 shows the actual use of it as a protection for America.**

* * *

"Get out of my land," Switzerland commanded as he aimed his shotgun.

Italy cowered behind a very upset-looking Germany. He had somehow rallied all the nations together to head for a neutral country to talk about what had happened. However, standing with a gun to his face suddenly made him lose all of his confidence.

It had taken them some time to get America to calm down enough for them to pry the boy off of England. Germany, as strong as the boy himself, had been talked (tricked, if you were to ask the Germanic blooded country) into carrying America on their journey to Switzerland. He was quite happy with leaving the boy and his Allies to themselves, but Italy had been adamant about explaining things.

At that moment, he had a shotgun in his face.

"I said get out of my land. I've already told you I'm not taking part in your war," Switzerland commanded again.

England bullied his way to the front, glaring at Switzerland.

"We're not here to have you take part in this war. We needed a neutral place to discuss," England explained coolly, a nerve popping out of his head.

Switzerland's eyes narrowed more, and he was prepared to fire, but Liechtenstein appeared.

"Big brother?" she asked, seeing the ensemble of nations. She then saw America on Germany's back, looking pale and all-together worn out. Her caring side broke through. "Big brother, we have to help him?"

Switzerland looked at his sister like she had lost her mind, but she stared back at him with that cute look she possessed, and, though neutral in everything, he just couldn't say no to her. Ever. Sighing, he turned back to the warring nations.

"Fine. You may use my hall for an _hour,_ and then you are to _leave_," Switzerland said, laying out the rules. "Liechtenstein will tend to America."

"Please follow me," Liechtenstein spoke up, hearing more than seeing footsteps following her.

She guided Germany (and England, once she looked over her shoulder) into her room and motioned for him to lay America on the bed. The nation did so and quickly walked off to the hall. Only England lingered behind, looking at America in concern and worry. Liechtenstein smiled at the island nation and assured him that she would take care of him while he was away. Trusting her, he turned and went for the meeting hall. He'd been to Switzerland's house a few times when meetings were forced to be held there, so he found the hall quickly. Everyone else was there and waiting.

Italy stood up, gulping a little as he tried to collect his nerves.

"So...erhm... Does anyone remember when I or America spoke about a mansion?" Italy began by asking.

"Yes, you were crying about being out of a mansion like a täuschen," Germany spoke up.

"Amerique mentioned a mansion and how he was happy they were out, but we had no idea what he was talking about," France spoke up.

Italy nodded.

"I'm not exactly sure why none of you can remember, but some time ago, we went into a mansion that was abandoned out in the woods. There were rumors about it, so we wanted to see. We, Germany, Japan, Prussia, and myself, went in to investigate it. I... I convinced everyone to enter it. Sometime later, you, the Allies entered. You had come at America's suggestion. While we were in there... Japan confronted the creature that lived with in. This... this creature it was... terrifyingly strong and powerful... and killed us..."

"What?" was everyone's uproar.

"That's not possible! Only other countries or natural disasters can kill a country," England spoke up, voicing what everyone thought.

"Somehow...it was able to. Even now, I'm not sure how it was able to," Italy continued, tearing up a little as he remembered his continuous failures. "We found clocks along the way, ones that showed us past loops, some with different outcomes and beginnings. Sometimes, our memories began to be affected as we attempted to fix time. Everyone... everyone died trying to protect me. I found a book that would let me go back in time... and so I'd go time after time to try and save everyone... but I kept failing. Soon... England began using his magic to do the same."

"I did?" England spoke up, surprised.

Italy nodded.

"During our journey, we'd go through time loops, whether by my book or through England's spells. The clocks in the mansion allowed us to see past time loops and future time loops. We always tried to help out our past selves, hopefully to save their lives," Italy said.

"That doesn't explain America's reaction today," England spoke up.

Italy bit his bottom lip, but decided England had a right to know. "Uhm... well... Germany, America, and I got stuck in one of the time loops. While there, we came across a ... well a different England. He quickly figured out that we weren't the ones from his time... he placed a magical protection on us, one that would protect us in case we were in trouble. America... America was really troubled by it because at the time you placed it up, one of the creatures came and tried to kill you. America was going to help... but you stopped him by placing the protection spell over us... and then you sent us to our timeline. When we arrived back... he was very angry and hurt... I thought we were going to lose him to himself."

"But.. his reaction... shouldn't he have been _happy_ to have had some sort of protection in that place?" England asked, actually _believing_ it to be true. Because...it sounded so familiar.

Italy shook his head.

"He...he didn't want you to keep using your powers. You were killed the most out of all of us," Italy explained.

"I...what?" England asked with shock.

"You used your magic a lot...and it really terrified America," Italy explained sadly. "You... you kept dying while trying to protect him...and you kept using your magic so much. When we returned back to our timeline, I asked you to take away the magic the other you had placed, just so I knew that he was have a peaceful mind. America... America was affected by this all very badly."

"So... the shield... it reminded him of that event... and that's why he reacted as he did?" England asked, trying to comprehend the situation.

Italy nodded.

"He... he's still feeling guilty over everything," Italy said. "The worst is when you became blind, England."

"What!?" everyone said in surprise.

"I...I went... how?" England asked.

"You were upset with America," Italy answered, remembering the memory clearly. "You thought he was acting strange and not himself because he kept snapping at you about your magic. He was too scared to explain himself...until that moment...You finally got upset with him and wanted to prove yourself to the group by running off and killing the creature that had attacked America earlier. You killed it... but you used too much of your magic to do so... and so you were blinded by it."

England's eyes widened, and suddenly, he gasped.

"I...I remember," England whispered, making everyone look at him in shock.

"Excusez-moi?" France questioned.

"I remember now. The basement... the creature..." England said. "I was angry with the bugger for thinking I was weaker than him... and he... I was angry with him for trying to take on the creatures all by himself...He was getting hurt... I wanted to protect everyone with my magic... I thought he just wanted the glory of being the hero..."

Italy frantically shook his head.

"America was very upset every time you died... every time any of us died..." Italy muttered. "I think he took it to heart."

"I... remember too," Japan spoke up.

Everyone looked at the other island nation, who had his head slightly lowered.

"I can remember now...the events. When you first mentioned the mansion, I had felt like I was supposed to remember something about it... but I never thought of it again because you never said a thing," Japan confessed. "But now... when you explained the situation, I remember."

"Da, I too am remembering events, though not as quickly, it would seem," Russia admitted.

"The light that surrounded America... it made me feel like I remember it from somewhere," Germany spoke up.

Italy watched with a small amount of excitement as everyone began to remember the events that had happened in the mansion. Italy opened his mouth to say something, but it was cut off by a blood-curdling scream from down the hall. England quickly jumped from his seat and ran for his little brother. The other nations followed after, but they weren't as fast as England.

The island nation threw the door open and ran into the room, finding America screaming and rolling around the bed in absolute terror. Liechtenstein and Switzerland were off to the side, unsure of how to face America or calm him down. Seeing his little brother in pain caused England's heart to break. He quickly went to America's side, avoiding a hit to the face from the flailing American.

"America! Calm down! Nothing's wrong! You're safe. You're out of that mansion now," England said, trying to get through to America.

America continued to cry in pain and tears continued to flow from his eyes as he thrashed. England, feeling his heart shatter, finally had enough and slapped America across his face. This woke the young nation up, who gasped and looked around frantically. Upon seeing that he wasn't in his nightmares (no doubt from his memories), and that England was looking him in concern, he began to sob. He reached out once more and wrapped his arms around England, seeking comfort. England provided it, not caring about his image to the others.

England sat on the bed with America practically on top of him as he buried his face into England's chest, sobbing against him without care. England shushed him and rubbed the back of his head, trying to get him to calm down.

"It's alright, America," England whispered. "Everything's okay now. The mansion is gone. The creature won't come to hurt you. I won't let it. You're safe now. You're safe."

"E-England?" America asked.

"Shhh. I remember what happened, and it's okay now. We made it. Now rest your eyes. You're still tired," England advised.

"Don't wanna," America mumbled into England's shirt. "Nightmares."

"Don't think about the place. You're safe," England repeated calmly, trying to soothe the American with his voice alone.

"Take away the magic," America ordered.

"W-what?" England asked, stilling his hand that was carding through America's hair.

"Take away the magic," America ordered again. "I don't want it anymore."

England bit his bottom lip, fighting with himself. He wanted to keep the magic over the American, feeling happy to know that he would have some sort of protection over him. The island nation glanced down and saw how miserable the American looked up and sighed. The magic only seemed to have cause America great stress. Raising his hand, he willed the magic off of the American and back into himself, adding to his magic level. Sensing the magic off of him (how could he have forgotten it had been there in the first place?), America released a sigh of relief and relaxed a little against the older man. England returned to petting America's hair, trying to relax the boy.

Italy, from his place by the door, smiled at seeing America looking relaxed. The others stood behind him, feeling a little more sympathetic now that they understood the emotional turmoil he had suffered from not only the mansion but the months that followed with the knowledge of being the only one to remember such terrible events. However, seeing England taking care of the pale boy, trying to get him to relax enough to sleep again, made all of their hearts glow in hopes that they would be able to get America to return to normal.

It was just a question of _when_ would he get better?


	6. Chapter Six

**This ending was not meant to be very long, so I'm sorry if you were expecting something big.**

**I'd like to thank everyone who stuck with me this long and enjoyed it!**

* * *

It had become a daily occurrence for England to sit on the couch provided by the hotel room with America's head in his lap with the boy sleeping. England, holding a book in one hand, ran his fingers through America's hair, providing constant relaxation to the poor boy. Even with the barrier off America, the boy continued to be plagued by the nightmares that tangled fantasy with memory.

Sitting beside the couch was some letters, all of them from Italy. There was a war still occurring outside, but this didn't mean that Italy wasn't worried about America, and so England and America responded back. All of them were usually about America's progress and how all of them were coping. All of them were fine, considering they didn't have to deal with holding it in for a long time.

Slowly, America was getting better. The nightmares were happening less and less, allowing the boy to catch up on sleep that he had missed. He had even begun to eat food again, putting meat on his bones again. He was even willing to eat any food so long as it was food (the boy didn't even complain when England gave America scones).

America whimpered in his sleep, curling his fists tighter against England's pants. England looked down at the boy.

"Shhhh," he whispered soothingly, resisting the urge to use his magic to calm America's mind. "It's only a bad memory. Find a happier one. Don't focus on the bad; focus on the good. You have the greatest future of us all, but only if you look forward."

"Am I a hero England?" America whispered.

England smiled softly, feeling his heart twitch in guilt. He hadn't known what he was thinking when he insulted America like that, but he now knew the emotional impact it had on the boy, and he wished he could take it all back. He continued to run his fingers through America's soft hair and pressed a light kiss to the ex-colony's head.

"Of course you are," England answered. "You're a hero, and you should never forget that."

America closed his eyes again with a calmer smile on his face, loosening his hold on England as he fell into a happier memory. England watched his sleeping ally for a second before placing another kiss against his forehead in comfort and returned to his book, never stopping his ministration. While America slept, he wanted to make sure that America knew he was fine and safe.

_You're safe now, America. I'll protect you,_ England thought. _I won't let your monsters get you. Not while I'm around._


End file.
